I should really be working on my summer stat homework but this is so much more interesting. Special thanks to Haxxer for the lovely comments and suggestions! I'll try to make them longer as we go, practice makes perfect right? Thanks and enjoy!

Strangers Passing Through

Ch 2: Ghosts

She awoke with a gasp, her nightshirt damp with sweat, clinging to her body. "Shit," she whispered, sitting up in her small bed. She took a deep shaky breath, running her hands through her hair she glanced over at the clock, 4:30 AM. Damn nightmares. Even though it had nearly been ten years since Mindoir it still seemed to fresh, so raw. She could smell the burnt flesh; feel the sticky, slick liquid of her parents' blood on her hands.

Rustling from the covers, she swung her legs over the side of her bed, realizing just how soaked she was from her night terrors. She remained like that for a few moments, sitting on the edge of the bed, feet tentatively touching the cool floor, listening to the hum of the ships' engine all the while trying to steady the heavy pounding of her heart against her chest. Reaching over to a small drawer by the side of her bed, she opened it to pull out a small plastic bottle with pills. She opened the bottle and popped one of the pills into her mouth and swallowed. Anxiety. That was the excuse at least they gave her for taking the medication. "Like it does me any damn good," she muttered. After she got off Mindoir and enlisted a few years later, the Alliance wanted to make it seem like they at least did something helpful so she got all the therapy and meds she wanted. Not like she wanted any of it in the first place, but seeing as her situation was less than fortunate she accepted it and went to therapy where she was told she suffered from anxiety and posttraumatic stress from Mindoir. No shit. The stress was dealt with, at least in her mind for now. She had proved she could move on and survive on Akuze; it was the damn nightmares that had started coming back recently that was becoming a problem. Still, she sighed, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger right? She let out an audible titter at her wishful thinking and examined her surroundings.

The room was bare, mostly, minus the small side drawer by her bed, a dresser, desk and table and chairs by the door. Simple. It was how she liked it, not too much fuss, easy to pick up and go when needed to. She was lucky, her room was her own, unlike the other soldiers who had to share rooms with one another, nobody ever requested to be placed with her. Not that she blamed them, with her history she couldn't blame people if they didn't want to be kept up almost every night with a young woman suffering from night terrors. Hell, she wouldn't even want to room with herself.

Walking over to her personal little sink she had in her room, she turned on the faucet and splashed the cool water over her face and neck. She blinked a couple times watching the water spin down the drain, like all her naïve dreams she had once held close. Turning the water off, she turned her attention to her reflection in the mirror. In all the short years she had lived, it felt so much longer in her mind. Her body still held the scars of the past, the faint lines on her arms from being hit with shrapnel, the scar on her right side from Mindoir, yet nothing physical would ever compare to her emotional scars. Staring back at the face in the mirror she saw a small glimpse of what she was, what she used to be. Her eyes were tired, displaying the recent lack of sleep and past tribulations that lay deep within. But she would never show this vulnerability to others, it was pushing past weakness and focusing on the tasks at hands that allowed her to survive. She couldn't afford to become emotional, to get wrapped up in her personal afflictions, and yet, here, in the solitude of her room those sentiments would resurface and her past would rise up, colliding into her like a concussive shot.

She snickered to herself, "One fucking day at a time."

It was still early enough where everyone would still be asleep so she thought it would be helpful to get out of her room for a few minutes. Just a change in scenery for my brain to shut up, she thought to herself.

Exiting her room she went in the mess hall, grabbing a cup of water along the way and just sat. Her mind buzzed with those awful memories, those relentless images as she drank her water. Damn, what she wouldn't do for a hard drink right now. She found herself secretly going back inside her mind to that point where she was once happy, or so she thought, wishing to chase away these dreads.

Right when I think I can get back to something as simple as sleep, bam, it's right back at me. She sighed, putting her elbows on the table and resting her head in her hands. Her thoughts were finally quieting down to where it seemed possible to return for a few more hours of sleep when she heard the elevator door swish open. Turning her head she saw the ships pilot, Joker hobble out making his way towards the stairs. She hadn't really talked to Joker since she was asked to come aboard the Normandy; she knew he was selected to pilot the ship so that meant something, but conversation with people never went as well as she would like. Still, he seemed like a nice guy, serious with his work, but nice.

"Hey," she said wearily, not really caring about her state of appearance.

"Shit! Commander!" Joker exclaimed, his hand grabbing his chest, "What the hell are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack or something?"

She shook her head, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"Nah, you didn't scare me, well, ok, maybe startle is a better term but scare just makes me sound like a little girl," he coughed uncomfortably, "not that there is a problem being a girl, err, or something. Commander."

She waved his remark off, "It's ok Joker, no offense taken. What the hell are you doing up at this time anyway?"

"Getting ready to check up on my baby," he grinned motioning around to the ship, "she's a top notch ship and I'm the guy to keep her in good condition. You know, review programs, monitors, readings, all that tech stuff they don't teach you guys at the academy," he said in a slightly cocky tone.

"Well it is a nice ship, one of a kind from what I hear," she replied trying to sound somewhat interested. She let Joker have his satisfaction, tech stuff was never one of her attributes, especially when it came to ships; she had other crap to worry about besides configuring relay jumps and ETAs.

She realized Joker was shifting his weight in his stance and it dawned on her how weird it must be coming up to see your commander in a sleep shirt and sweats. She thought what she would do if she came out to see Anderson in his sleep attire. For some reason this made her imagine Anderson in little footy pajamas with a teddy bear. Awkward, she thought shaking her head. Returning her focus back to Joker, despite the fact that social interaction was not her strongest point, she tried her best to alleviate the unomfortable situation, "well I don't want to take up any more of your time, nice to see you Joker. Enjoy, uh, your morning." She rose from her seat and gave him a slight nod.

"Ok, thanks, see ya Commander." Joker said as she made her way back to her room, letting the pilot have his moment of solitude with his ship.

Returning back to the safe haven of her bed, she snuggled down into the warmth of her covers wishing life could really be as easy as it was in this moment. She closed her eyes, willing her mind to let it drift into happier things even if they were fleeting thoughts. Her thoughts drifted about, listing what she would do later today, thinking about her brief but enjoyable conversation with Joker. Emitting a deep sigh before succumbing to sleep, she smiled to herself as the images of Mindoir's sun kissing her face and the soft breeze tickling her hair filled her thoughts as the ghosts of her past drifted into the abyss.